One Notch Higher
by starlight2005
Summary: Oh, the pains of growing up...  In which Seto Kaiba realizes that there's more to growing up than going to high school.  Continuation of Step by Step. AU SK/YY
1. Chapter 1

**Title: One Notch Higher (continuation of Step By Step)**

**A/N: I'm back! Anyway, like I said in Step by Step, I decided to cut the story into several books. This is Book 2, and it starts off several years after Step by Step. Don't worry. It didn't skip so much. Just... skimmed over some years, I guess. This chapter's more of laying down the foundation - the premises. Hope nobody minds that. In any case, I would love to hear what you think so don't hesitate to drop a review that I can respond to. Thanks!**

**Summary: **_**Oh, the pains of growing up...**_

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><p><strong>Book 2<strong>

**Preparation**

**5:45 AM**

Seto Kaiba blinked once... then twice... thrice. Then, he sighed tiredly. He hasn't slept.

Just in time, the alarm clock rang loudly beside the bed.

The morning air was cold and smelled faintly of breakfast and brewed coffee. It was a distinct smell, the coffee, and Seto recognized it as the one his father had taken a liking to. Seto sat up from bed and yawned, at the same time planing the day ahead. He stood up, then, and picked half-heartedly the clothes he was going ot wear today. He glanced at his reflection. He had grown taller - almost as tall as his father now - and his features were sharper than ever. But the changes, he knew, were far from over. In fact, it had only just begun. The same way high school was also just starting... today.

At the thought, Seto couldn't help but frown.

(As much as Seto was more mature than his peers, he was still a teenager and he still loathed the idea of encountering annoying people again.)

His musings were cut short by a knock on the door, and a voice.

"Seto, dearest, breakfast is ready," his mother called from the other side. She was soft-spoken, and she never lost her temper. It had made her look more endearing, Seto supposed, that not obliging her would appear like the gravest sin. At this point, Seto understood his father's protectiveness of her. He'd do anything just to make sure his mother would remain as at peace.

"I'll be right down," Seto answered.

In five minutes, he was seated in front of his mother, and on the left of his father. They ate in silence. See, that was how things were now. His father drank his coffee without sugar, and his mother sliced her pancakes in smaller, neat pieces. Although his father spent much more time now with them, Seto noticed subtle differences. Like how his father always wanted to know where his mother was and what she was doing. How she was prevented from performing most chores. His father had always been protective of her, Seto knew. But this time, it was different. He remembered walking in on them arguing one day, last summer. His father had held in his hand documents from the hospital, and his mother had looked crestfallen. Neither noticed him on the doorway. Seto slipped away before they noticed, though... but he knew something was up. He didn't know why, but somehow he felt he couldn't expect his mother to live as long as they all want her to.

**6:30 AM**

For the most part of Seto's lifetime spent in school, he was almost always the first person to arrive. Everyone, however, was early today. It was strange.

Because people tend to herd themselves into various cliques, each group actually crowded hallways, lockers... even the stairs. Girls giggled at boys when they used to scoff and ignore them, and boys utilized such display to feed their egos. The freshmen cowardly entered, eying their surroundings with caution. The seniors, on the other hand, eyed them and the other students with a predator-like gleam in their eyes, grinning as their prey trip on their own feet, and waggled their eyebrows at pretty batchmates. People were idiots in their unmonitored, natural environments.

As a freshman in high school, Seto Kaiba observed that the socio-political arena of high school is different-but very much predictable.

Unlike his poor, forever-psychologically-scarred batchmates, he entered the school with a flair that dismissed the curious and suspicious glances thrown his way. What did he care? When the seniors looked at him, he raised his eyebrows at them. He had no intention to fall victim to their silly attempts at 'sizing up the competition'. The girls stared at him with equal intensity, their curiosity barely masked. On hindsight, he figured he was generating interest that, albeit in principle is flattering, has no use to him. Seto truly did not know which gender was worse. He figured he was making a bold impression, projecting an image that promised unwanted consequences. His chestnut brown hair swept to the sides almost effortlessly, never undermining the ferocity of his step-aside-or-else glare (which he was notorious for in middle school), and his eyes glittered with an iciness that made it impossible for anyone to approach him. Yami would, of course, call this his defense mechanism because psychoanalyzing him has become his best friend's new hobby, but even if it was only a defense mechanism, it obviously works.

Yami caught up to him before noticing their environment, looking thoughtful first before looking amused. The shorter teen snickered. Seto threw him an exasperated look, which only prompted Yami to chuckle even more.

"Honestly, why aren't you the least disturbed by all this?" Seto gestured with a flick of his hand. Yami paused, appearing to be thinking about it, before shrugging carelessly and smiling amiably at a girl who called his name. The girl-Seto rolled his eyes- blushed and hid her face behind her notebook. Seto commented, "This is ridiculous."

Yami nodded sagely... but grinned anyway. (At the back of Seto's mind, he had the impression that his best friend was merely humouring his antics today. But never mind that.)

Unlike the other freshmen, he and Yami have been spared by puberty's embarrassing effects. In spite of the growth spurt, Seto knew he looked lithe but not lanky. His voice had fallen one note deeper, making a good, wholesome baritone that lacked the occassional, characteristic-among-boys squeak. Seto figured it made him a foreboding presence, one he intended to capitalize on this school year. Yami, on the other hand, drastically lost the baby fat, making his face look more angular- sharper-looking. Mature. It emphasized, even, Yami's cat-like eyes. He had grown an inch or two, not to the extent that Seto did, but there were other changes as well. The color of Yami's eyes, for example, was the fiercest red, Seto found, and his hair had grown longer and wilder. Suffice to say, even with the height difference, Yami was equally capable of making bold statements on his own.

All in all, the beginnings of puberty have been good to the both of them. From the attention they've been garnering just from the moment they walked in, apparently they weren't the only ones who appreciated it. Oh boy. Seto sighed. What a pain high school was!

"We should be grateful nobody's tried to shove us to the lockers yet," Yami said, gesturing to the bespectacled boy who hit the lockers just a few steps ahead of them. The older students laughed and walked away, leaving the boy on the floor, gathering his stuff. Yami turned to Seto, looking serious for a millisecond. "It could've been worse."

Seto glared at the retreating backs of the students, weighing the thought.

"They can try," he hissed. It wasn't as if they wouldn't be able to do anything anyway. They had bullies expelled from school once. Seto bet he could do it again.

"Bakura would have pulled down the fire alarm there if he were here," Yami remarked, expertly diverting the issue. Seto let him before conceding that yes, that was exactly what Bakura was wont to do. Unfortunately, Bakura was spending a year in London with his biological mother. Part of a court arrangement, or something.(His parents, Seto learned from Yami, split several years ago, and the white-haired boy now lived with his dad and his stepmother, whom he hated.) Ever since Bakura left, however, things have calmed down to an extent. It was a relief.

In times like this though, Seto had to admit he missed the chaos the boy never failed to exact. But wait a minute.

"Of course if Bakura were here, we'd get in trouble just by association," Seto remarked sourly. At the memory of ill-fated pranks and detentions, Yami laughed and Seto scowled.

"Cheer up, Seto! It's high school. It's a new year for us. Let's just make it fun for ourselves," Yami cajoled as they stepped into Homeroom and taking the last two seats at the back. Like old times; just Yami and him. Naturally, Yami's idea of fun involved competing for higher scores and better academic performances. It had delighted their teachers, _of course_, but Seto didn't care about that. Seto smirked at the challenge. Even if Yami won last year by a meager point, it didn't mean he was going to pull off the same achievement this year, Seto vowed.

"To the victor goes the spoils?" Seto asked, planning a hike up the mountain on Christmas break and making Yami do everything he ordered, when he wins this time. Yami cocked an eyebrow, as if saying, 'Do you even have to ask?'

"Shake on it!" Seto said, offering a hand which Yami promptly grabbed and shook.

"Good luck, Seto."

"You, too. You're going to need it, after all," Seto teased.

They laughed, the excitement a good way to start the year.

When the bell rang and everybody went to their seats, Seto's gaze lingered a while on his best friend, feeling contemplative for the briefest moment, before looking away.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**11:55 AM**

Waiting for the bell to ring was like waiting for the rain to come on a summer day. It was dragging. But it wasn't futile if you have the patience for it. Yami Mutou looked around, and thought most of the class was either trying so hard to not fall asleep, or was staring at the clock and waiting for it to strike twelve. It was so typical of students. Yami smiled in spite of that. His eyes landed on his best friend, who now entertained himself by reading a book. It was the book that they had bought last week, the one they saw was up for sale in a nearby book store. Yami didn't know why Seto hasn't finished it yet. He should have been done with it by now, considering how fast a reader he was. Yami looked away and looked outside the windows instead, drumming his fingers.

In short, Yami was bored.

However, when the bell _did _ring, the silent almost-lifeless class suddenly hummed with activity. As expected, Seto got irritated by the noise but even Seto sat straighter and started to pack like everyone else. Yami grinned and was about to coax his friend into a conversation when the teacher started giving last minute announcements, including one:

"Mr. Kaiba, would you kindly stay behind for a minute, please?"

Instinctively, Seto glanced at him. He usually does. It's become a habit, Yami noticed. Sometimes, it was to ask for something. Other times, it was to seek reassurance. Most of the time, it was a mixture of both. Yami knew what the glance meant, and he nodded. Seto got the message and smiled thankfully, but he was the hardheaded person Yami knew, so he still didn't want to stay behind. The teacher, however, was nice. She was new, and they both knew that. She probably just wanted to ask about Seto's grades. Yami gestured at their teacher.

"Come on," Yami said.

His best friend deftly shook his head. Obviously Seto didn't want to follow. Yami knew that when Seto already had plans, he wasn't going to allow even a teacher to mess it up. Yami sighed.

"Be nice," Yami whispered. From the stubborn frown on Seto's face, Yami was so close to believing that the teacher's request would be rejected. But Seto sighed and nodded eventually, acquiescing to her. Yami smiled and stood up. It was lunchtime.

"I'll be outside," he promised.

"I don't understand why I have to be called out like this," Seto protested. "If this is one of those silly compliments again-"

"She's new. She probably just wants to get to know her prospective top student better," Yami teased.

"Why aren't you here with me, then?" Seto asked.

Yami thought it was wiser to grin the question away. He patted Seto's shoulder before grabbing both of their bags and heading out.

The thing about school was, it didn't work the way Seto thought it would. Even if there were two star pupils, only one would receive the attention. There have always been favorites, and Yami didn't think their old school was any different. People also don't get blank slates when they transfer from one level of education to another. Yami knew their teachers in middle school spoke proudly of his best friend, despite Seto's rude behaviour toward them most of the time. And he knew that their teachers often spoke with their future teachers. He was willing to bet that their teachers now were on a look-out for Seto.

Yami sat on the floor and grabbed a book to read. He was already on the second chapter when three girls unwittingly stopped nearby, engaged in a conversation of their own. Yami truthfully didn't mean to eavesdrop, especially since the girls failed to notice someone could actually hear them. But they were talking about a certain freshman - the one whose description fit Seto really well. Yami couldn't help but listen.

"What a waste of looks, though. Lou said he was a menace in his old school," said the one with the auburn hair. Her friend, the one with the dyed hair, shook her head in fervent denial.

"That can't be! He's so good!"

"How do you know? You haven't even met him yet," the third member of the group, a girl with jet black hair, quipped. The devil's advocate, his mind supplied him. "Besides, if he's good and he treats people so poorly, then he's just a jerk."

"He isn't!"

"I heard the guys talking about him earlier. They said he had some boys in his class expelled just because he didn't like them," the devil's advocate conspiratorily whispered.

Yami rolled his eyes and put his book aside. Pushing their bags nearest the wall, he started walking toward them. The longer these girls gossiped, with the wrong details, the more defamation Seto would be subject to. Truthfully, Seto could be rude. He snapped at people, especially when they were annoying him, but he wasn't 'menacing'. And he would never abuse his power that way. More than that, he knew for a fact that his best friend meant well. In his usual Seto Kaiba-ish sort of way. The thing is, people respond to Seto in a dichomotized manner. They loved that he was talented. But they hated him anyway for being so distant. Perhaps it didn't help that Seto wasn't bothered enough to actually care - then again, this was Seto, who usually felt he wasn't subject to anyone's opinions except to people who mattered. Unfortunately, those who mattered were quite few.

Being closed off, and refusing to correct the speculations, led to situations like this. Sometimes Yami grew tired of it, even though he knew why Seto was doing this.

However, right before he could break off their silly conversation, he heard a yelp coming from behind and saw a student trip over his bag. She had the same hair color as Seto's, Yami noticed, and she was also _apparently _not looking at where she was going. Yami heard the books she was carrying fall on the floor, and he ran towards her, catching her before she followed suit.

"Sorry," the girl mumbled. She was blushing out of embarrassment. She was lucky nobody else was lurking to laugh at her. Yami immediately placed a distance between them and smiling comfortingly. He guessed it wasn't every day that the girl, whoever she was, tripped over bags. "I didn't see the bag."

"It's alright," Yami replied. The girl looked up and Yami saw how her bangs framed her face. She had pale blue eyes that reminded Yami of his best friend. He bended down and started picking up her books and watched as she did the same. Now, the thing was, Yami wasn't naive. He knew the cliche in this kind of scenario - in the movies, one of them would accidentally touch the other and they'd realize they're soul mates or something. Truthfully, he did not know if he wanted it to happen (for the sake of curiosity; of testing if it did happen in real life), or not.

"Yami, what are you doing?"

Yami grinned as he immediately turned around. Seto was staring at him in confusion. The conversation was apparently over. He collected the books and stood up, aware that the girl did the same.

"Helping people. You ought to try that sometime," he teased, laughing when Seto scowled. When Seto's eyes fell on the girl who was standing behind Yami, however, he realized that he forgot his manners. "Oh, sorry. This is..."

Yami turned to the girl and realized he never bothered to ask her name. Luckily, the girl picked up on it and extended a hand to Seto.

"Mazaki Anzu."

Seto stared at her suspiciously at first then glanced at Yami. Yami knew that stare. It was the usual I-don't-trust-you stare that Seto threw at people. Frankly, Yami thought it was amusing. But Seto eventually shook the extended hand anyway.

"Kaiba Seto," his blue-eyed brunet of a best friend answered back. "Sorry, but we have to be going. Right, Yami?"

Seto faced the opposite direction and started walking. Yami turned to Anzu and smiled.

"Sorry with the bag incident. It was nice meeting you, Anzu. See you around!"

As he and Seto walked towards the bleachers, he uttered teasingly:

"Seto, you're such a jerk sometimes."

Seto met his eyes and raised his eyebrow arrogantly.

"And you only found out about this now?"

Yami threw his head back and laughed. This was a good way to start the school year, he thought at the back of his head.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**5:49 PM **

"I never got to ask. Why did the teacher want to talk to you?"

Seto looked up from the book he was reading and shrugged.

"She wanted me to audition for some music group in school. I declined, but she told me to think about it. Auditions are year-round anyway," he answered. They were in Yami's room this time. Over the years, they've made a habit of spending the night in each other's house. Their parents never really questioned it, and nobody seemed to mind. Yami was typing something on the desktop computer, and Seto was yet again reading his book. It's what he normally did when he stayed over. Yami stopped at his response, though, and swung the chair around.

"You declined? Seto, that could help you hone your talent more!"

"Yeah, but I don't want to. I'm fine with the way things are," Seto replied. "Besides, I'm good enough and I manage well on my own. So why do I need the extra 'honing'?"

Yami shook his head.

"You could become a better pianist, though."

"Probably. But I have other things to do."

"Such as?"

Seto paused. Yami raised an eyebrow. He scowled.

"You don't have to keep sacrificing these opportunities just so I won't be left alone, you know," Yami said. There was a minor disadvantage, Seto thought, when your best friend knows almost everything about you. Seto stubbornly shook his head.

"I'm not doing this just for you," he replied. Because he wasn't. He simply didn't want to audition.

Yami sighed and conceded defeat for today.

"What are you doing anyway?"

"Bakura's online," Yami answered.

"You still talk to him?" Seto frowned. It's been a while since the albino was brought up in a conversation. Or, for this matter, been a part of their lives. And Seto had to admit. Even if he no longer thought of Bakura as a competitor for the role of Yami's best friend - he realized that was a silly notion, see - it didn't necessarily mean he stopped thinking that the boy was a nuisance. One he tolerated from time to time, but a nuisance still, he meant.

"When I catch him online. He says hi."

Seto struggled with the idea of rolling his eyes, but decided against it. Yami still treated the albino as a friend, after all. And he knew, at least, that although he thought differently of Bakura, he also had to respect Yami's decision.

"Hello," he dispassionately said.

Yami laughed at the tone of his voice, before facing the computer. Seto grabbed his book and decided to resume reading. They would be okay once Yami and Bakura's conversation ended anyway.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed the first chapter. It meant a big deal to me to see the interest, really. But second, I would also like to apologize for the delay. Apparently, an internship didn't guarantee more free time as I was led to believe. This chapter had been difficult to finish, honest. (I know some of you have pointed out that it wasn't a big deal, but I had intended to post this last month, at least.) Lastly, some of you might feel the latter half of this chapter is inappropriate for the T rating. So I have changed the rating of the story to M. Do leave your thoughts after reading? Thanks! **

**EDIT: Thanks to Jolly Big Sis for pointing out some mistakes!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 <strong>

**Awakening **

In high school, a lot of things were bound to change.

Not that anyone expected it _not to_, but it didn't necessarily mean it was an okay thing all the time.

This concept of...'change' started with that brunette girl, Seto Kaiba thought. With her stupid blinding smile and 'brilliant' idea to invite Yami and him, Seto meant. She was too sickeningly sweet to be true, and it annoyed Seto greatly when the girl came up to them yesterday and said in her high-pitched, squeaky voice, _"Would you like to join us for lunch?" _Ugh. Yami didn't accept, of course, but the seed was planted, so to speak. And the constant that was having lunch under the shade of a tree, which was still relatively more private and quiet than the cafeteria, was bound to be inconstant, as well. All they needed to do was to wait until his best friend succumbed to his curiosity and ask:

"Would you like to try the cafeteria today?"

(Which he just did _now_.)

Seto knew he was the reclusive one between them, and this, he did not deny. He liked his privacy. He liked the silence, and the quiet chatter he and Yami made when they were in the mood to talk. He liked how they could not be bothered with the idea that people would see them, or be bothered by what may offend other people. But Yami was the type that didn't like to be alone with his thoughts all the time. He didn't ask often, of course, respecting Seto's preferences, but Seto knew anyway.

Yami's thoughts haunted him. Sometimes it affected Yami the whole day. Sometimes he wouldn't even talk to Seto at all just because he was plagued with something his mind came up with. And although he was apologetic right after, it didn't change the fact that Seto didn't want Yami still be affected by his past. He should have the right to be freed from his nightmares.

"Would you like to?" Seto asked, seeking Yami's eyes. Yami glanced away, though, and fleetingly looked at the cafeteria before looking at him. Yami wanted to. It was evident in his body language. Currently, however, Seto was lying comfortably on his back, mere minutes from falling asleep and Yami knew this. Yami didn't want to change this. So Seto sat up, "Don't even think about it. If you want to, I'm fine with it."

"I wasn't—"

Seto would have scoffed, but raised an eyebrow instead. Sure enough, Yami got the message.

"It'll be full of people," Yami warned.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Seto teased.

Someday Seto would teach Yami to demand things for himself. It was one of his best friend's peculiarities that Seto hadn't resolved yet. Since the day they met, Yami submitted to other people's demands. He was proud, sure. He was fully capable of getting recognized for his abilities. But he also needed to learn to put his own wants above everyone else, including Seto's, from time to time. Unfortunately, Yami was stubborn in that department.

"Seto, it's okay," Yami said.

"I want to go," Seto answered, changing tactics.

"But you don't like crowds, remember?"

"You'll protect me?"

Yami laughed. And Seto felt he succeeded. Grabbing his bag, Seto stood up and eyed Yami expectantly.

"Come on. Let's go inside," he insisted. Seto wasn't ignorant, see. He knew Yami was well-adjusted with the various cliques in high school. People just happened to gravitate towards him and Seto had no problem with that. Of course, Yami wasn't liked by _everyone_, per se, but that's okay. This was high school, after all. You can't please all. He led the way inside, and their entrance caught the attention of those sitting near the door. Yami met his eyes, non-verbally asking, _'You sure?'_ and Seto nodded.

When the brunette who followed Yami everywhere like a lost pup saw them and waved much too energetically for Seto's taste, Seto frowned. Yami didn't notice. He was busy looking for a table for them. (At the back of Seto's mind, he consoled himself with the notion that at least Yami didn't notice _her _too.)

-o-o-o-o-o-

If the hallways were a jungle, the cafeteria, Seto found, was a nightmare from hell. This, he found out after several minutes of waiting for his best friend to arrive. The entire place was utter chaos. The school's streamers looked disgusting, stained with various thrown food viands. On the corner, there was a growing pile of discarded trays with leftover food. There was clutter everywhere. Considering this mess, he would assume this to be the product of releasing teenagers who don't even clean their own rooms, or organize their things in a contained area with food, other teenagers and more rough housing. At least, he thought, they were located at the farthest side of the cafeteria and were therefore safe from being disturbed. The cliques were evident as ever. The jocks were laughing at the nerds, the seniors laughed at the freshmen, everyone was laughing at everyone else.

And Seto concluded that he hated high school.

"Quit rolling your eyes. It'll get stuck one day, you'll see," Yami said. He has his hands on his hips and he was grinning at Seto, clearly expecting this mulish behaviour from him.

"Shouldn't you be falling in line?" Seto replied because he could see the line. It was ridiculously long.

"It'll take a while before I get back. Is that okay with you?

"I'm fine. Get your food or you'll lose your spot! See, somebody just took it!"

Yami chuckled.

"Relax. Anzu has my spot covered for me."

"Anzu?"

"The brunette you despise?"

A moment in the nearby future, Seto would wonder why Yami knew that. But that was not this moment. He narrowed his gaze at the brunet, who only beamed. Was she dense or what?

"Okay," he answered.

"Okay, Seto," Yami said, leaving.

Left alone, Seto did what he was wont t do. He took out his book – he was two chapters close to finally figuring out how the book ended, you know – and for a few, undisturbed minutes, started to read. Then someone tapped his shoulders and he was forced to look up, glaring at the student who dared disturb his peace.

Said guy was looking at him with bright, cheerful eyes. Seto was annoyed.

"I was reading."

"Oh? Cool. Hello. May I sit here?"

"I was _reading_," Seto insisted. Really, was this guy an idiot? Couldn't he see that he was already infuriating another person, whom he just bothered, by the way? But Seto didn't lash out. Given any other day, this guy probably wouldn't even _dare _breathe the same air Seto breathed. So there must be a reason why he's doing this now. Right, the seat.

Human beings, Seto found, operated in different patterns, but patterns nevertheless. An event would be a catalyst to a reaction, then another event which would produce another set of reaction, and so on. People wanted acceptance—nice, sweet words that in this case would probably say, 'By all means, _sit_"—and this very nature was Seto's weapon. Seto was harsh because he meant to. Because the rejection pushed people he didn't like away, and made people who really cared look at him more closely. It's sort of like filtering the particles to purify water. So, when Seto answered with: "The fact that you're intruding in my personal space is _already _bothersome. I don't even know you," he was expecting a wounded look on the other boy's face and a statement that sounded a lot like "I... I can go... I'm sorry." A hasty departure would follow after that.

It seemed, however, that the student failed to get this particular memo about human behaviour because all he did was give Seto a rueful smile.

"I'm Greg," he said, looking sheepish. "I'd shake your hand but I got my hands full, so..."

This guy was annoying. _Really_.

He was so helpless. Seto doubted he could insist on sending this person away without hearing his conscience (that sounded an awful lot like Yami lately, hmm) nag at him. Greg had to be an idiot of some sort, Seto concluded, and must therefore be – for the meantime – humoured.

"If I let you sit with us, will you leave us alone?" Seto asked. Greg nodded eagerly. "Fine."

"Thanks, Seto!"

Seto's eyes narrowed.

"Kaiba."

"Pardon?"

Seto fought the urge to lash out on the student, but he could feel his patience thinning even more drastically. Calling someone by his first name was a sign of familiarity – one Greg would not be accorded. It bothered Seto immensely. Only Yami called him that.

"It's Kaiba. Nobody calls me Seto. Understand?"

Greg looked at him like he was a fish out of water, but agreed anyway, his voice sounding a bit wary. Seto decided not to pay it any heed. Yami (who else?) and Bakura excluded, a part of Seto thought Greg What's-his-name was the only person in the entire school that braved his icy affront.

It was peculiar.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Greg, Seto found, could handle the silence pretty well... which was surprising, to say the least. It's been several minutes of no talking and no staring, and Seto was faced with an unexpectedly silent, behaved fellow. He's subtly glanced at the guy, of course, and... it was peculiar. It was as if he was staring at a completely different person, someone who wasn't loud and intruding as the previous one he met. Seto couldn't help it. He felt intrigued. Putting the book aside, he shifted in his chair and faced the other student. If he was going to have a proper conversation with someone who wasn't Yami, he demanded eye contact at least. For lie detection, you know.

"We're not from the same class, are we?" Seto asked. When Jake shook his head, he continued, "Are you a senior?"

"Yeah," Greg answered.

"It's not normal for seniors to be alone," Set pointed out because it wasn't. They hunted in packs. Senior year was the time when students had already established their place in school, and that meant having their own groups to belong to. Unless you're the batch pariah – which Greg couldn't be. He certainly didn't look the part. Seto expected nerdy glasses, jumpers and the typical unhealthy obsession with sci-fi. Greg shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the topic. And Seto's mind clicked. Something was up.

After a while, though, Greg looked up and met his eyes, grinning in that same rueful manner that annoyed Seto a few minutes ago. He was deflecting, and that was obvious. The only question was, whether or not Seto was interested enough in what that something was to prod uncharacteristically.

"We can't all be partying, careless wannabes, can we? Someone's got to study and pass the college entrance exams," the boy answered.

"How noble of you to assume that role, then," Seto countered.

"That's me. Noble," Greg replied, meeting his eyes and keeping it that way. Seto found Greg had brown eyes that were almost a shade of red. It reminded Seto of Yami's eyes, actually. The pools in Greg's brown eyes reflected the pain Seto was sure he's seen in Yami's. For the briefest moment, they stared at each other before Seto broke the gaze.

What was taking Yami so long?

"Sure you are," he said a little while later before going back to his book. Greg got the message and kept to himself. A few seconds later, however, Seto was still reading the same sentence that he was reading many minutes ago. He couldn't concentrate. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his temples.

"Hey Kaiba," Greg said, breaking the silence. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Someone coughed from behind and Seto knew that sound. He turned around and saw Yamil.

"That was fast," he commented, knowing Yami heard the sarcasm there. Yami did, raising an eyebrow in response before sitting down next to him. His eyes fell on Greg, wondering what was going on but Greg stood up, carrying his tray.

"Thanks, Kaiba," Greg bade before nodding at Yami.

Seto never felt so out of sync. What was going on?

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You're growing up," Yami teased.

Seto rolled his eyes instinctively.

"Shut up, Yami."

Seto couldn't help but sense the terseness in Yami's voice, despite the teasing nature. It wasn't there before. But Yami caught his concern and dissuaded it with a shake of his head.

"Really, Seto? That's all you can come up with? Has your new friend distracted you so?" Yami chuckled.

"Yami, just eat your food. It's about time for class."

Seto really did expect the grin on Yami's face.

"Yes, mom."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Seto couldn't see anything. But he felt _everything—_the high and lows, the tension and release.

Then he woke up with a gasp.

He glanced at his clock. In 45 minutes, he should be readying for school. Even without looking at his trousers, he already knew what happened, and he felt like the Earth should swallow him whole. His body still buzzed with a tingling feeling that had Seto sagging into the bed sheets, with no desire to stand up. The dream was still fresh in his mind. Although the details were sketchy at best, he could remember the warmth that flooded his veins, the ecstasy; that floating feeling that had your body moving like a finely-tuned instrument, then the slow unwinding that followed after. He remembered feeling delirious with pleasure, running after it when it was withdrawing; the heavy feeling at first, then the maddening height of whatever it was, before the crashing back to reality and waking up to soiled bed sheets.

Seto wasn't naive. He knew what this was. Even though he felt boneless, his senses were heightened, his skin sensitive. His cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

Oh, puberty.

At the back of his mind was a nagging feeling: a blossoming curiosity that mixed dangerously well with wonder. He was sorely tempted to try anything to feel what his dream had him feeling. He didn't have anything to lose, did he? In the privacy of his room, surely he could satisfy his curiosity just this once?

Mind decided, Seto went to the bathroom and with an almost shy grace, removed his clothes. He stared at his body for a minute as he contemplated things over. This wasn't the end of it, he knew. He read about the physiological causes—the hormones—and understood the detailed explanation of how one's hormones could easily drive rationality away. He knew what other boys do when they had the same dilemma. Yet even with his scientific knowledge of how things worked, Seto was still a teenager and he wanted to _feel _the effects. He wasn't keen on believing what he had not experienced first-hand. Besides, it raised a fair point. How could a simple movement of the wrist trigger such a mind-blowing reaction?

Seto hesitated at first, as he stepped into the shower stall. They were all second-hand information in his head—what to do, what happens next, why it happens. The apprehension was natural. He hasn't done this before, after all. But was it normal to feel just as excited? Seto placed a hand on the wall for support, leaning over it casually. When his hand fell on his manhood, he still wasn't sure but he started stroking. Slow ones, testing the waters, so to speak. Nothing. He was doing this wrong, wasn't he? Faster, the strokes came, before he made a tugging gesture, a twist, then—

_Oh. There it was. _

Seto bit his lip. Deftly, his hand moved up and slid down. His knees buckled and he shuddered before gaining momentum. The movements were faster now and every move had him gasping wordlessly, shutting his eyes. The mad rush of warmth was back like water released from a dam. He felt the high, the onslaught of _feels so good _and _more, not enough _felt like a battering ram to Seto's already shutting-down brain. And satisfied his urges, he tried to do. His movements were fast, he could barely distinguish when one stroke ended and another started. He had sunk to his knees, legs widening further for better leverage. He could barely think, nor silence the sounds that were coming from his mouth.

He was so... close...

When it came, Seto didn't know what hit him. He cried aloud, the sound ripped from his throat as his body gave way to the assault. Afterwards, he breathed heavily, forehead on the wall as he turned the shower on, letting the water wash the traces of what he's done away.

Half an hour later, Seto went down for breakfast, pretending nothing happened. But his skin felt clammy, ironically. He felt tensed as ever, when that shouldn't be the case. He wasn't going to deny that what happened was pleasurable. It opened, however, several things Seto didn't want to deal with. The act, in principle alone, felt too banal—too uncontrollable for him to appreciate. The mad race to release, the abandonment of rationality as instinct took over... Seto wasn't a hormonal teenager like everyone else was. He was better than that. Surely he could overcome this?

Yet he didn't, and he found the thought of being slave to what his body wanted terrified him.

"Seto, honey, are you okay?" His mother's voice called out to him.

Seto nodded.

"I'm fine, mother."

To prove it, he ate another spoonful of cereal and convinced, his mother smiled before focusing on her own food. Seto sighed. Could he skip school, he wondered.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys! So... this is shorter than the first two and I'm kinda embarrassed by that. However, I feel that an update is still an update so I hope you'll forgive me for this. Anyway, tell me what you think. I'd appreciate it. While you're at it, drop by JollyBigSis' account here in FFnet and check out her stories. They're awesome. Okay? I promise the next chapter's going to be longer. And there be big plot development too. I hope. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**Calm and Storms**

"You look horrible."

Seto scowled at his best friend. He knew that. Gathered, at least, that he was showing just how un-ideal his morning has been. Considering it wasn't every day he woke up to stick sheets and followed through a particularly strange, hormonal urge, Seto assumed it would show on his face that _no, he wasn't having a good day, thank you very much_. Seto was cranky, and yet Yami continued to eye him with concern, looking like he was respecting Seto's right to be grumpy but not necessarily willing to suffer in silence for all eternity. Somehow, Seto knew Yami was going to ask about this eventually and he approached this idea with trepidation.

There was no way that he could tell Yami what happened. It wasn't a topic for everyday conversation, for one thing. More importantly, it was embarrassing and he wouldn't subject himself to that. Belatedly, Seto's cheeks flamed at the memory.

"You okay?"Yami asked. His voice was softer, refusing to draw in attention. It was supposed to make Seto feel more comfortable with sharing the problem. And this was Yami's subtle attempt at making him talk. It wasn't going to work this time.

"It's nothing," he replied. In the grand scheme of things, what was one hand job, really? It didn't hurt anyone. It didn't change anything, either. In fact, his mind preferred not to ever do it again – to give in so easily, he meant (because he wasn't like all the other teenagers, he just wasn't). Seto acknowledged, however, that his body was determined to betray him anyway. It still hummed with a traitorous pleasure, one that had him instinctively looking forward to the safe confines of the bathroom walls so he could experiment further. Seto groaned inwardly.

The point was: a freak-out of this nature was personal – way too personal for anyone else's ears – and Seto was keen in keeping it that way. Besides, it wasn't as if Yami needed to know. How exactly would Yami respond after that?

The bell rang, a sound Seto never felt relieved about until now, and the students expectedly started pouring in. Yami no longer pressed the issue, seeing as there was no chance to do so in front of other people. Seto figured, however, that it was due more to Seto already taking out his book and intending to hide behind its pages until Yami _did _drop the issue. Suffice to say, Yami really had no choice but to let him be and to this, Seto felt immensely relieved. He heard his best friend sigh and turn away and although guilt panged in his chest for doing this, Seto thought this was the lesser evil—compared to the awkwardness that would follow had he given in to Yami's questioning, that is.

Halfway through Homeroom and a silence that stretched thinly between them, Yami managed to pass him a note. He threw a questioning glance at his best friend, who had already looked away. Seto couldn't help but worry that his insistence to keep quiet had upset Yami in turn.

The note read:

_Whatever it is that you're going through, it's okay. I won't push. You know I'll be here to help, always. So stop being a jerk and put down your book. You're not reading anyway. :P _

There was no trace of anger or upset there. Relieved, Seto folded the note and kept it in his pocket. He met Yami's eyes.

"It's creepy how you know me so much. You're like my stalker or something," he said. Yami grinned.

"So," Yami started. "I talked to Bakura last night."

"Yeah, and?"

At the back of his head, Seto couldn't help but revel in the fact that over the years, they have created this mainstay activity. Homeroom was theirs – they were free to talk about mundane things; they played mind games that alleviated the boredom and the thrill that they were getting away with it while the other students couldn't... this was one of his favorite things, he thought. Homeroom was comfortable. Easy.

"He says he's coming back," Yami answered.

Great.

"It's only for two months. Vacation," Yami continued, perhaps seeing the pinched reaction Seto was often prone to. So okay, Bakura was a cool guy. In special, will-never-be-talked-about circumstances. And he was tolerable once in a blue moon. Seto was past the irrational jealousy that Bakura had once caused. Mostly. Seto guessed he just hated that he wasn't going to be as daring as the white-haired boy to amuse Yami as much as Bakura did. Then again, Bakura was an idiot. A bullying idiot, but an idiot nevertheless and Seto still had enough rationality to not want to be an idiot, too. In short, Seto could handle this.

"It's not a big deal, Yami," he reassured his best friend.

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

They were quiet after that.

The lull in their conversation was an opportunity to listen to the announcements, however. Seto found out that two students were absent today. They've been absent for almost a week now. They caught the flu, apparently, and have urged the faculty to be more vigilant in containing it to just a small number of students. Seto figured that they weren't the last ones from this class, eyes falling on the girl in front who was sneezing like crazy. Her entire posture screamed 'infected'. She had a sickly pallor with her, an unhealthy flush on her face and an unfocused gaze. She was next... and she also happened to past by them earlier, coughing unintentionally in Yami's direction.

"She has the flu," Seto pointed out, tapping on Yami's shoulder.

"You don't say," was Yami's sarcastic remark. Seto rolled his eyes.

"She coughed on you," Seto accused.

"Don't worry, Seto. I won't cough at you. Wouldn't want to spill the icky germs on you," Yami teased. At his glare, Yami sobered up and smiled. "I promise I won't get sick."

Seto nodded his approval.

"Good."

"You're such a worrywart."

Seto shrugged. Of course he was. It was in his job description.

"I care."

"I know. You still worry too much, though. No wonder you age faster than me."

"Someone has to be mature in this relationship," Seto countered.

Yami chuckled then faced the front again. The teacher has been staring at them. Paying attention, to be more exact. Time to listen, then.

It took a while for Seto to realize that it's been half an hour of not mulling over the experience. Even without knowing about it, Seto thought maybe for being annoying, Yami intended this to happen all along. A smile crept to his lips as an afterthought.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Yami was the first one to admit that after having taken to eating in the cafeteria three times a week, the novelty of it has already worn off. He just got bored of it, he supposed. It was the same mess. Same people. Same unbearably long line. Seto had grown used to it. He mostly kept to his books anyway, unless Greg wasn't there. Unfortunately, Yami thought, Greg _has _been with them since the time they met. He wasn't holding anything against the guy. He was happy Seto made a friend. But it certainly changed the dynamics in the cafeteria. Whereas outside, Seto unleashed his rants and talked about anything he could think about, inside Seto was reserved and unwilling to delve into too-personal-for-eavesdroppers topics. The point was, Greg was there and it made it disconcerting for Seto to just talk.

Yami eyed the line in disdain.

"Hi, Yami!"

Yami turned around to see Anzu walking towards him.

Anzu had tied her hair into a ponytail. It looked neat on her, made her bangs frame her face. She blinked her chestnut-brown eyes and smiled. It was, admittedly, endearing.

"Hello, Anzu," he greeted. This was surprising, though. They haven't talked since the first day of school, and she belonged to a social circle that just made it nearly impossible for them to meet. "How have you been?"

"I'm okay," she answered, shyly looking at her shoes for a moment. "I've been meaning to talk to you for days. But I don't see you around often, and you always looked so busy so..."

"We can talk now," Yami replied. To be honest, it didn't come up. The urge to talk to anyone (who wasn't Seto), he meant. He gave her a smile, one she readily returned. He glanced at the line – it's barely moved. "It seems I'm not going anywhere."

That opened the floodgates for Anzu, at least, and Yami unwittingly encouraged it.

Anzu talked a lot, her topics changing every minute or so and it was difficult to catch up. He didn't mean it, but his mind wandered. He could still hear her, though. He was good at that; the half-listening. Without preamble, she talked endlessly about having a hard time with English literature. She just couldn't appreciate it, she said. She was enjoying cheerleading immensely, though, even if some girls gave her weird, judgmental looks. The coach had talked to her yesterday. She might be put on top of the pyramid soon. It was an achievement for cheerleaders, apparently. After cheerleading practice, some senior approached her. Captain of the hockey team. He was good-looking but she didn't like her, she rambled. There was a party at his house in two weeks, though. One that Captain-of-the-hockey-team invited her to. She didn't want to go alone, but none of her friends wanted to join her. Through all of that, Yami nodded, hoping it was enough to convey that he was listening. (Well, technically, he still was.)

"Would you go with me?"

It took a while for the words to sink in and when it did, Yami met her eyes in surprise. That was an actual question?

"I... I don't know. I have to check with Seto," he answered, thinking of his anti-social best friend who was probably bored to tears by now. Seto was not good with waiting; he was too impatient for that. They often had plans on the weekend, Seto and him. Sometimes they brought Yuugi to the cinema or the playground. Sometimes they spent the entire weekend camped out in Seto's backyard. It was a different activity every week, was the point, and the novelty of each activity was something Yami wasn't truly willing to miss. At his response, Anzu's smile wavered in disappointment.

"We might have plans," he explained, relieved to see Anzu nod in acceptance eventually. Within seconds, she returned to her bubbly self and Yami couldn't help but feel he just prevented an awkward moment from happening.

"Okay! Can you tell me before Friday, though?"

"I will. But why?"

Anzu eyed her as if he grew another head.

"So I can decline the invitation if you aren't going, of course."

Decline?

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the party without me, Anzu."

"True," she conceded, "But it won't be the same."

Anzu grinned, a bit shaky if you asked Yami, before she conveniently excused herself. Yami had no choice but to watch her retreating back, wondering what her words meant.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Greg was looking at him.

Correction— Greg _was_ _staring _at him inconspicuously. His skin prickled at the attention that's directed at him. It's getting on his nerves.

"What?" Seto demanded, putting down the book that he was reading. Greg shrugged, quite not flinching from his glare as he was expected to do. At some point, Seto would learn to be threatened by the idea that two people were immune to his glare now. It was not this day.

"You're pale," the senior pointed out, drawling the words to make it seem like it spoke of several things. Greg munched on his apple, then, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "You're different today."

Thank you, Captain Obvious, Seto thought.

"I've always been different. That's why I'm special," Seto deflected instead.

Greg shook his head, suprisingly not buying his defense mechanism. It felt strangely invasive. Like knowing someone else's secret when you're not supposed to.

"You okay?" He asked, matching the intensity of Seto's glare with his inquiring gaze. It meant a lot like 'I can see past your bullshit' and 'I'm not going to believe you if you say you aren't', and was something Seto really, really did not want to answer. Hi, personal issue, remember?

"Peachy."

"Okay."

Greg didn't believe him.

"It's personal, okay? And I don't want to tell you." Seto hoped _that_, at least, would dispel the attention. He expected it, and it seemed to have worked. Greg held up both of his hands in a placating gesture, one that indicated that he was dropping the issue, and left him alone. Relieved, Seto went back to reading his book.

Halfway through the first page of the next chapter, however, Greg patted his shoulder.

"You should learn to ask for advice. Especially from those who might have experienced that confusing thing you're going through," the senior enigmatically said. He spoke as if he knew something. Like he could read Seto's mind and Seto automatically went on defensive, his thoughts reeling. He blanched. Did Greg—how did he know?

"Oh, hey, Yami," Greg suddenly greeted, looking up and smiling in that weird, Greg-ish way that belied nothing of what they were just talking about. Yami looked surprised for a minute, glancing at both of them, before greeting back. His eyes fell on Seto and non-verbally asked if things were alright. At Seto's shrug, his best friend sat down and everything went back to normal.

No matter how hard he tried, though, Greg's words echoed in his head. It was a tempting offer. He guessed the problem with having a best friend who've you've known for years, and who knows you better than anyone else, was that sensitive issues such as this was surprisingly difficult to broach. And the anonymity that Greg's offer promised, in the short-term it could provide Seto the release, no pun intended, that he was seeking. In essence, it would be nice to talk to someone about this and to have someone who could help him get over it. BUT. He trusted Yami. He trusted Yami with _everything_, and it was difficult to consider that this was something he could not trust Yami with.

Not knowing what to do left Seto staring unseeingly, mind a-whirled with confusion.

"Hey," Yami called, rousing him from his musings with a hand on his arm.

"Yeah?" Seto asked. "What took you so long?"

"The line was slow," Yami explained apologetically.

"As usual. I'm not even surprised," he replied, rolling his eyes. Yami grinned.

"Of course you aren't. You're Seto Kaiba."

"Good you know, else I might have to look for a new best friend," he teased.

"I'd like to see you try," Yami retorted.

But other than that light-hearted conversation, they spent the remaining time in silence, all lost in their thoughts.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: To my dear readers, I'm really sorry for not updating any sooner. This semester was horrible. I really do hope the interest hasn't waned off. Anyway, since my semester ended roughly two weeks ago, I've been working on this for days! And I realize how I'm only two chapters short of finishing this part of the Yami's and Seto's story. How I miss this. I'm hoping to finish another chapter before classes resume on November 8, and the last one before December. So please be more patient with me, and I'm sorry for the delayed responses and updates on my part. I hope you enjoy this one! Do tell me what you think after, ne?**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Growing ****(Up)**** Out **

_It starts with his vision being obstructed with a blindfold conveniently placed on his eyes. That someone _is _there with him, watching him. He doesn't shy away, but he reddens, feeling exposed. _

_Then he feels his other senses sharpen; hearing, especially. Perhaps it is a natural, adaptation reaction – for his other senses to compensate for what has been temporarily muted. That precise moment, he hears the rustle of clothes being removed and felt the dip on the bed as it bears another weight. Seto is pressed into the mattress, his body coming in contact with another and he feels the heat radiate from the other in spite of the cool air from the air-conditioner which he gathers cools this room. Seto's pulse quickens, whether by excitement or fear he can't tell. Dream or no, this other... person could just as easily harm him and he wouldn't be able to defend himself. Would he hit this entity squarely even without seeing him? Would that be enough to remove the threat? Who is this person anyway? And Seto was naked! If his assaulter has a weapon, Seto is an easy target. _

_Seto's breath hitched. This is a dream, he knows. But his panic feels real and his hands start to reach for the blindfold. _

_"No, don't!"_

_The sudden grip on his hands were tight; controlling. Seto naturally struggles. At least it's a dream, he wouldn't have to see bruises around his wrists the next day. But the voice. He has heard it before. Has heard it in real life; in the cafeteria, during lunch time. That voice, which can be light and teasing, or brimming with untold secrets that he can sense from a mile away. Seto gets over the fact that this is someone he knows easily – it's a dream, after all – and begrudgingly calms down. Sort of._

_"What –" _What's going on? _He wants to say. _

_"Shh..." is the response, followed by a firm press of lips on his. Even under the blindfold, Seto instinctively closes his eyes. It's a dream and so, he submits. _

_Greg doesn't stop with just a kiss. His mouth latches on the spot connecting Seto's neck and shoulders, and sucks as Seto gasps. He moves to Seto's chest, flicks the nubs teasingly before his hand trails down treacherously. Seto wants to remove the blindfold, the purpose of which has already been defeated once he learns who his assaulter is. Greg's hand falls on his manhood and tugs at it gently. _

_"Greg!" he cries. He does so because of two things – that he is uncomfortable with someone else touching him intimately is one; that he can't deny the shoot of pleasure that races back his spine is another. He feels Greg smile on his skin, like he's expecting this to happen, and feels Greg's hand tighten and stroke just the right way that a moan rips from Seto's throat. _

_"That's it," Greg whispers near his ear and nips gently. His voice tickles, Seto thinks and shudders. "Let go." _

_"N-no," Seto refuses and trembles. His hands grab Greg's shoulders, intending to push him away. But his body has other plans. The strokes hasten, tighten; each time has Seto gasping loudly and pulling Greg closer. The pressure in his belly builds and Seto shuts his eyes, torn between reigning over the tumultuous build-up of pleasure and letting go. It's too much; too fast. It's too good. He's arching into Greg's hands, slowly losing the battle he wages against himself. And Greg's enjoying it, relishing the moans that he wrangles from Seto. Seto can't find the words to say; undecided between stopping and wanting more. _

_"I have you," Greg promises before claiming his mouth, forcing his tongue right in and coaxes Seto's to engage with it. The build-up is strong; Greg on him, touching him, kissing and having his way with him. It's overwhelming. It doesn't make sense. It's just a dream, and somehow it doesn't feel as bad compared to if this were the real thing. _

_"Let go," Greg tries again and this time, his grip on Seto's wrists and manhood are gone. Both hands fall on Seto's waist and drag it upward. Their cocks slid together, flesh meeting flesh, and then he climaxes and shouts. In a fraction of a second, the blindfold is removed. Just before he loses sight of Greg, with his eyes falling shut so quickly, he sees Greg's lips curve into a well-accomplished smirk._

_Then Seto knew no more than waking up to soiled sheets, and a feeling of embarrassed pleasure. _

-o-o-o-o-o-

Seto lay unmoving on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as time ticked away. It was just a dream, he reasoned. The images were like burned into his head—clear and on the forefront of his thoughts, and he didn't know which bothered him more: that he had a wet dream of a boy, or that he had a wet dream of _Greg_.

The temptation to ponder about this even more deeply was strong, and he realized it would probably be best for him to just forget it. He didn't need this. It was just a dream.

It was still dark outside. The sun had barely risen. Seto just wanted to be distracted. Standing up, he grabbed the bed sheets and went straight to the bathroom for a cold shower.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Seto snapped the book shut as the classroom door slid open. His eyes darted to the newcomer, relaxing as he saw Yami. Yami looked immensely relieved to see him there, as well, judging from the smile that greeted him. Upon seeing his friend's pale complexion, Seto frowned, however. It seemed as if his best friend didn't get any decent sleep last night. And he looked far from calm. Rattled would be an adequate description. It was Yami's clothes that caught Seto's attention, though. Standing up and meeting Yami halfway, Seto frowned as his worry grew. No, he wasn't imagining things. Yami really wasn't in his school uniform. Why was that?

"I can hear you worry from where I stand," Yami greeted. Seto rolled his eyes. He must have been that transparent that Yami caught on instantly. At his reaction, the other boy smiled, albeit tiredly, and shook his head. "You're such a worrywart, Seto Kaiba."

Seto crossed his arms and gazed unflinchingly at him. At this point, he had every right to worry. Why wasn't Yami in his uniform? And, why did he look so tired? Was he sick? If so, what was he doing here? Shouldn't he be at home, resting?

"Seto! Seriously, you'll get an aneurysm at the rate you're going," Yami teased, chuckling lightly. He quickly sobered, though, as he met Seto's eyes, "I'm alright."

"What's going on then?"

Yami sighed, finally showing traces of the exhaustion that was Seto's main concern a while ago.

"Yugi had a nightmare," he answered. "It wasn't pleasant and he refused to sleep. So I stayed up with him."

"Oh. Is he okay now?"

Yami nodded, visibly relaxing as they went to their seats.

Sometimes Seto forgot how young Yugi was. As they grew up, Yami's little brother had made it a point to stay in the backdrop, causing almost nothing for Yami to be concerned about. That kid was adorable, Seto had to admit. From his antics to the fact that he really was just naive enough to be interesting, Seto liked him. Yugi was at the age where he was old enough to be exposed to the same difficult situation Yami experienced, but was too young to fully comprehend why these things happen and how someone is supposed to get over it, though. And sometimes—especially when Yugi acted beyond his years—Seto did forget the vulnerability that Yugi still had.

When he thought about these things, he couldn't wish for anything else but to be given the power to help the two.

"So now that you've proven that I've got nothing to worry about, why aren't you in your uniform?" he asked. He's forgotten about the book that he was reading earlier, putting it aside in favour of talking to his friend, who at this moment was looking at the discarded book. (Honestly, Yami.) Ignoring the exasperation that his mind was nagging at him, he instead waited for Yami to reply.

"Grandpa has to go to the doctor today. He's asked me to come with him," Yami said.

"But what about today's lessons?"

"I've got you, don't I?" Yami retorted, grinning at him. Seto wasn't going to buy it though. That wasn't the issue. He still worried. At this point, he was worried about Yami stretching himself too thin, and why was no one else being there for his family? At the obvious 'Not-getting away-that-easily-this-time-Yami' look in Seto's eyes, Yami sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'll catch up."

Seto exhaled, rubbing his eyes before glancing at his best friend. Yami looking at him expectantly, to understand as usual. And he did. He knew just how difficult and complex Yami's family dynamics go, and he wasn't going to make it harder for his best friend. But at the same time, he hated that he could only watch from the sidelines. It reminded him of the many powerless situations he saw on TV, where the characters had all the room to do something, but not the tools to redress the situation. Reason told him that everyone had roles to play, and his wasn't to be Yami's hero; it was to be his friend, who'd be there for him. (For the record, there was nothing wrong with that but how vexing it was!)

"What do you need?" Seto conceded.

"I..." Yami started. "I'm not going to make it for lunch."

"... Okay?"

"You wouldn't mind being alone today?"

"I'll be fine, Yami. I won't fight with the other kids today, I promise," Seto assured him, biting down the smirk as Yami chuckled in surprise. "Go with Grandpa. I'll drop by after class. Deal?"

If Yami's relief was blatant – it was, on his face – Seto paid no heed to it. He sort of expected his friend to leave after he explained what was going to happen today anyway. On one side, if this were anyone else, Seto probably would have been insulted by the idea that he'd _hate _being on his own. Hello, books? But this was Yami, and since the school year started, they had _never _left the other one alone for an entire day. He could understand Yami's hesitation. When Yami suddenly peered at the book that Seto had put aside, and pulled their chairs close, Seto raised an eyebrow. Now what was he up to?

"Shouldn't you be leaving now? Class is—"

"—not about to start. It's barely past 6AM, Seto," Yami interrupted, glancing at him. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, Seto noticed. "I went to your house before I went here. But when I got there, you had left already. That was thirty minutes ago."

Seto glanced at his watch. Yami was right. It really was way too early. None of their classmates were going to arrive any time soon. Perfect.

"Five-thirty is early, even for you, Seto."

Seto shrugged. Inwardly, he dreaded where this conversation was heading.

"I suppose so," he replied.

"What's wrong?"

Seto eyed the window instead. How was he going to answer? This wasn't going to work, this stalling. Yami knew better than to press for answers, sure, but he wasn't going to keep respecting Seto's silence if it meant drastic changes to habits and behaviour. And going to class at 5:30 AM, being quieter than usual, and abnormally uncomfortable during random moments of the day were definitely symptoms that Yami could see.

Yami tapped him on the shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His best friend softly asked.

Seto knew where this was going. If he refused, Yami would respect it and give him the space to mull things over, before observing him more. If he'd take up the offer, he'd have no idea how to begin. It's not as if he could just say 'I'm having dreams about a man...' anyway, right?

"I don't know," was what Seto settled with instead. Yami didn't expect it, of course, and had to stare at him for a few seconds before gathering his composure and smiling reassuringly.

"We'll talk later, okay? After class, when you go the house, we can talk about this... if you want," Yami answered. Yami was worried now. Seto could see it in his friend's eyes—that need to find out and do something. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who felt powerless in their friend's situation, Seto thought wryly.

"Thanks, Yami."

Yami shrugged.

"You'd do the same thing for me," he said. "Anyway, what's this book about?"

Relieved at the change of topic, Seto immediately handed the book to Yami, showing the back cover.

"Read it yourself," he ordered.

"You're so bossy," Yami quipped before reading the synopsis.

That was how they were going to spend the time they had left – discussing plots, ideas and moral dilemmas. And it was the distraction that Seto was hoping to get, so he supposed he was quite thankful for that.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The hallways were deserted when Seto chanced upon them as he re-entered the school building. Without Yami there, he didn't see the appeal in suffering for an hour in an overcrowded, boisterously loud room. (He also didn't want to bear Greg's all-knowing gaze for yet another day, considering the circumstances, so the cafeteria really was out of the options) He had, therefore, decided to spend his lunch break in his and Yami's usual spot outside. But there was only so much cloud-gazing one person could take before he got unreasonably bored. Hence, here he was.

Seto walked in an utterly precise manner, with long, even strides and a purpose for every step. He had his eyes only at his destination, and as such spent no time idly taking in his environment. Yami had often related this to his 'defence mechanism'. 'The less you notice your environment, the less likely you become conscious and attached to it. That way, it's easier for you to be indifferent to everybody else,' his friend had explained. Unfortunately, no matter how many times Seto pointed out how the idea of a defence mechanism was rubbish, Yami refused to drop his conspiracy. Not that it mattered because he _could _observe his environment. He only chose not to do so because he had no reason or purpose for it... and he and Yami were often discussing something while they walked, so it was difficult to notice anything else.

This time, however, Seto's pace was slower, bidding his time. Clearly, his next classroom would still be empty since the entire student body was still wrecking havoc in the cafeteria anyway. Normally, however, he had Yami to share the space with, albeit in silence. The difference between the normal situation and now was that not only did he have the room to himself, it would be completely silence. Absolute silence was deafening and he thought he was kind of getting sick of reading books non-stop all day. In short, the classroom was the farthest thing in his mind right now and he promised Yami that he'd be okay on his own for a day so he should find a way to entertain himself.

Did his locker need any re-organizing, he wondered?

The sound of something being slammed to the lockers caught him in surprise, though, and the pained grunt as well as a chorus of chuckles that followed after definitely grabbed his attention. Seto didn't have a hero's complex. As much as possible, he didn't meddle with anyone else's business, unless he got carried away or if he got too curious. But even so, it was pretty clear to him that just around the corner, someone was being bullied again.

Seto rolled his eyes.

Oh, bullies. They were pathetic. Seto had nothing against judging other people. Sometimes there really were people too stupid for their own good, and _hi, _he's been doing that most of his life, hasn't he? However, relying on muscles and numbers to intimidate was not strategic and was actually rather simplistic-cum-primitive. Mob-like. Strength and power were not measured by mob-like behaviour, like brute force and number. Brute force and number would guarantee you a position in the army as a foot soldier, ready to be used as pawns by the ones with power – those who were intellectually and strategically more capable. Bullies had no direction, other than enjoying someone quivering in fear of their muscles.

Stupid boys.

"Running after our captain wasn't good enough, was it, Greg?" the bullies' acting leader mocked.

Seto stopped. Wait. Greg?

_Their _Greg?

There was another muffled grunt, then some laughter, before Seto moved towards their direction.

"Where are your precious freshmen now? Left you too, eh? Have you disgusted them so much that they didn't even show up for your lunch date today?" Another voice chirped in.

When Seto saw them, the sight that greeted them could have come out from any movie scene that depicted bullying. Greg was on the floor, bending over where he was no doubt hit, as four other seniors surrounded him, forming a semi-circle. Greg hasn't said a word, perhaps choosing to be silent rather than provoke his attackers further. Quiet or no, Seto could see that the senior was in pain, however. It showed on his face—not that the four students surrounding him cared, really. (What surprised Seto was, nobody's seen him so far. Idiots.)

Greg didn't strike him to be some kind of push-over. Even without a closer look at the guy, Seto could see he had a slightly more muscular built than your average guy. Meaning, on any other day, he probably could have taken on any of the bullies and do some damage. The others must have overpowered _and _taken him by surprise to be able to put him in this position now.

"Last I checked, this school had a non-tolerance policy towards bullying," Seto said, finally announcing his presence. It had attained its goal; so much so that all eyes were on him, including Greg's.

"Freshmen should learn to stay out of things that don't concern them," one of the students answered. "You don't want to be like him, we promise you."

"Please, spare me of your idiocy. Do you really expect me to be afraid of you?" Seto quipped, chuckling to himself as he added, "You couldn't hurt me even _if _you tried."

When another student took a step, and made a show of cracking his knuckles, Seto crossed his arms and smirked. Bring it on. True, he wasn't that good with dealing blows quite yet. But he was pretty good at evading them, at least. Besides, this maddening rush of flight-or-flight that coursed through his veins was addictive. If they thought Seto Kaiba was someone who could be intimidated by petty words, they were wrong and he would show them.

"Kaiba! Mind your own business and go away!"

It was Greg who intervened, however, his eyes widening in panic at what the situation was evolving into. Greg made a move to stand up, but was quickly pushed back down with a shove and a 'Sit, fag!' Seto wasn't sure if he was glaring at the seniors by the action and Greg's failed attempt at intervening did a marginal good as one of the bullies suddenly looked nervous.

"Kaiba? The one who got—"

So apparently, rumours could be a good thing, Seto thought blandly.

Grinning, Seto faced the student. This could be used to his advantage, this boy's anxiety. He really was getting tired of witnessing their 'We-own-the-playground-roar!' act every living day.

"It's amazing, isn't it? All I really needed to do then was complain about the people I disliked," Seto told the boy, empowered by the flicker of doubt that he had seen in the other boy's eyes. This was maddening—this... _power. _"I got them expelled over one silly phone call."

"Rumours—"

"Weren't you supposed to hit me?" Seto inquired of the guy who made a show at him earlier. Taking a step back and opening his arms in mock welcome, his piercing gaze fell on the bully. "Please. _Hit me_. Make sure there are bruises, okay? I'm all free."

"Kaiba!"

Seto chose to ignore the senior.

"Hit me, come on," he dared instead. When the bully changed his mind and moved back, Seto followed with a step forward, closing the distance so they were eye-to-eye. "Hit me and I'll make sure you never see any of your families having any decent job again."

"Seto, this is stupid!" Greg tried again as the bullies' 'leader' released him.

"You're lying," the leader pointed out. Seto met his gaze. He was. But Seto had an awesome poker face, and they didn't know that. He just needed to pull this off. "No one has that much power, especially not some kid like you, freshman."

"True," Seto admitted, watching the student smirk as they glared at each other. "But I'm not exactly your average guy, am I? Wouldn't you like to see for yourself, then?"

Seto had always considered himself a gambler, and this situation had two outcomes. If his bluff gets called on again and he fails to recover, he wasn't going home with just some bruises and sore spots. It'd be so much worse. However, if they fall for it, they'd go scot-free and these idiots would at least know not to cross him again. 'The key to showing you mean business,' his father had said once, 'is to never break eye contact or show hesitation.' Of course, his father was talking about business deals and what-not then, but wasn't it amazing how that principle could be applied in dealing with bullies, too?

The bully broke eye contact and wordlessly ordered for his lackeys to regroup behind him. Battle won, Seto mused to himself.

"You're wasting your time, defending this one here," the student said.

"Don't you ever dare hurt any of my friends again," Seto replied back and snorted when they turned around and walked away. That was the only time that he ran to where Greg was, and helped him up.

Half-carrying the senior, he led the way to the clinic, which was closed, unfortunately. They decided to wait at Seto's classroom instead. It was near, after all.

Seto sighed in relief as soon as he sat on the chair. Greg looked at him in disbelief.

"You should probably ask to be sent home early," Seto said, breaking the silence. Greg had a busted lip, and bruised knuckles. At least he didn't go down without a fight, Seto thought. His uniform was a disaster, with a ripped sleeve and some tears from where the bullies had probably grabbed him. What the hell happened anyway?

Greg shook his head, and laughed to himself.

"That was a stupid thing to do, Kaiba," he chided.

Seto raised an eyebrow.

"It was stupidly brilliant. Happy?" Greg corrected. "In fact, it's kind of hard to tell where the stupidity ended and the brilliance began."

"You're welcome," Seto answered, rolling his eyes at the obvious exaggeration.

"But thank you, Kaiba. Not a lot would do that for me," the senior confessed, sobering quickly as he looked away.

"How come? You're a friendly guy." Surely Greg's friends would be there to back him up if the need arose, right? Wasn't that how the whole friendship thing worked? But when Greg laughed, Seto didn't like it at all. It was too self-depreciating to show any hint of amusement.

"There's a reason I sit with you at lunch, Kaiba. And I'm sorry, but it's not your wonderful personality."

"But—"

"I don't have friends, Kaiba."

That, admittedly, made sense now. Seto had, after all, gotten the impression that Greg wasn't that close with his batch on their first meeting. However, he had always assumed it was more of a decision on Greg's part—something akin to his own. But to have completely different reasons to the self-imposed isolation they both were in (sort of, since he still had Yami...), it was strange. How was he supposed to deal with these things?

"What happened?"

"What?"

Seto fought against grimacing.

"If you didn't choose to be friendless, then I'm going to assume once upon a time, you had people to be there for you. What happened?"

Greg sighed, buying himself time by removing his coat and folding it neatly. He was choosing the words he was going to say, Seto realized upon gazing at the senior's pensive look.

"I became too different for them to handle," Greg said after a while.

"I'm different," Seto reminded. He didn't want to add 'yet I have Yami' because that was too callous even for him. "How different?"

Greg shook his head and looked away, "When you're a kid, you think you're best friends until the end of time. You'll have each other's backs no matter what happens. But when you're a kid, Kaiba, you don't really know the person, only his habits. So there's always an ideal image of them in your mind, and that stays until you grow."

It was only after a few seconds that Greg continued with, "I'm not ashamed of who I am, but apparently being gay is way too dangerous. I don't have friends because they thought they'd get in trouble by being associated with me, or be infected."

If Greg expected him to be stunned by the confession, Greg would not be disappointed. It was a surprise to have him say it like that. But Seto guessed he probably had known it instinctively, only refusing to recognize it officially since Greg wasn't confirming it before. However, if Greg expected him to be shocked into silence, then that was a different matter altogether.

"Then you weren't friends at all. That's a stupid basis and you should be better off without those cowards," Seto said.

"Kaiba—"

"Seto."

"What?"

"I just almost got us into deeper trouble by lying to protect you. I suppose I'm being friend-like?" Seto explained, feeling the urge to protect Greg as much as he had with Yami. He supposed that's just how he was with people he spent time with in an almost daily basis (in Greg's case).

Greg gaped at him.

"Did you just make me your friend?" Greg asked in disbelief.

"Why? Is something wrong with that?"

"I'm not going to be your friend just because you pity me, Kaiba," Greg reminded him. "It doesn't work like that."

How weird was it that the senior's remark reminded him of Yami, for some reason?

"You're okay," Seto admitted. "You know when to stop bothering me, so that's something. And you and Yami would have fun discussing Dumas. It's his favourite."

Greg reddened, reminding Seto flashbacks of what he had dreamed of last night and he, too, as a reaction, blushed.

"Where's the other half of your duo, anyway?"

"He's accompanying Grandpa to the doctor."

"You've always been good friends, huh?" Greg asked. It was an innocent question, but Seto couldn't help but remember the guy's words from a while ago. He nodded instead and saw Greg's lips curve into a pleased smile. "Maybe it'll be different for you two."

What's that supposed to mean?

"Anyway, I have to go," Greg said, looking at the time. "It's almost time for class."

"They should leave you alone now," Seto answered, standing up as well before frowning when Greg missed a step. Greg would have tripped had Seto not pulled him back. Shaking his head, Seto put the other student's arm around his shoulders as he made Greg sit on the desk. "Let me see where they've hit you."

They should have done this earlier.

Acting a bit self-consciously, Greg lifted his shirt halfway, revealing an angry-looking bruise on his left side. He flinched when Seto touched it gently. Seto had every intention of reporting the students, if only he had gotten their names.

"Come on, we'll go to the city doctor instead," he said as he grabbed his bag and waited for the senior. The school was ridiculous. It was bad enough that despite the non-tolerance of bullying, it was all on paper and nothing else. It's worse that the clinic was closed when it should _always _be open in the first place. Besides, the city doctor knew Grandpa and Yami'd be there. It'd be a win-win situation.

"We're going to cut class?"

"Why not? This is an emergency. You're hurt."

"_Cut_ class, Seto."

"Trust me," Seto said.

After a moment's hesitation, Greg finally conceded. They were out of the school in five minutes.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Oh dear, what a short update. But I hope you don't mind. About my last AN, I won't be limiting this story to six chapters anymore, else the things I want to write might be crammed into one chapter and that just won't do. Thank you for those who gave me their comments. They have been insightful. Review and tell me what you think? **

**Chapter 5**

**Friends like These **

It was with a quickened pace that Yami exited the school building. Although he was not necessarily in a hurry he was already going to stand out soon, given the crowd build-up outside. At 6:30 AM, students were beginning to arrive, sending him scrutinizing gazes as he passed by. And he truly wasn't up for that.

Yami's thoughts wandered to Seto unconsciously. Suffice to say, Seto worried him, if only because he got the impression that Seto _did _want him to help, unlike in the past when the brunet dealt with it alone. When he had asked his friend earlier about what was bothering him, Seto looked like he wanted to say something, only to change his mind. Yami respected that. Seto had always approached the things that upset him by mulling them over until he resolved them on his own. He needed time and space, not a cheerleader. Then again, in those cases, Seto had never worried his mother as much as she did now. This time, Yami felt out of loop. Whatever it was that bothered Seto was different from those that he was usually bothered about, and Yami felt he couldn't let Seto handle this on his own anymore.

The only question was, how would he make Seto talk about this?

Yami did offer to discuss the issue later, and it was something he approached with mixed feelings. If Seto would take up the offer and tell him what's wrong, they could find a way to solve the problem. However, if Seto would choose to clam up, Yami didn't know if he should push his stubborn, secretive friend.

Sighing, Yami decided to delay addressing this dilemma in favour of getting home as quickly as possible. He was already near the school gate when someone called his name. He turned around and saw Anzu running towards him.

"Good morning," he greeted cordially.

"Good morning, Yami," Anzu greeted back, smiling as she took in what he was wearing. Her brows furrowed in confusion. This was what he was trying to avoid. "Aren't you attending class today?"

Yami shook his head, at a loss to explain when Anzu gestured for him to expound. It wasn't a matter of not having an excuse, really. He had a legitimate reason for skipping class, one he told Seto already. But people were prone to judging others based on the customs and norms they grew up with, without necessarily understanding where others were coming from. To most, school was of topmost priority, surpassing everything else. He didn't operate that way. He was responsible for far more things than his education. He wondered if Anzu would respond the way Seto did if he said 'I need to accompany my Grandpa today'. Seto had understood immediately, knowing what was going on, despite his initial concern. It was a relief, really. Too often had his nerves have been frayed this morning by recent events, he wasn't going to handle it well if his decision were questioned.

"Yami?"

"Sorry, Anzu, I'm not feeling well. I should be going," he answered. He bowed his head courteously, and was about to leave when Anzu grabbed his hand, stilling him in the process.

"Anzu?"

Anzu reddened as she loosened her hold, her eyes widening. She was worried. He could see it in her eyes. Yami grinned, though. He really didn't need this, he thought as he hoped to deflect the concern.

"I'm okay, Anzu. Don't worry," he requested. He couldn't adequately explain why her concern made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, but the urge to get away was quite strong and he gently released his hand.

"I can go with you... to make sure you're okay?"

Yami shook his head, grinning.

"It's really not necessary, I promise."

"Sure?"

"Definitely."

Anzu was clearly reluctant to leave, and Yami didn't know how to tell her to leave him be without hurting her feelings. Anzu was just being nice, after all. It wasn't her fault that Yami felt overwhelmed by her gestures.

"I really must go. Take care, Anzu!"

When Anzu didn't protest, or make any move to stop, him, Yami exhaled in relief. He reached the corner, and slowed down, the guilt nagging at him. Anzu was worried, perhaps as much as Seto would if Yami told him he was sick. Come to think about it, if he told Seto that he was sick, his friend would have done more than offer to walk home with him. Knowing Seto, the brunet would have cut class altogether and stayed by his side until he got well. It was exasperating, but so Seto-like that Yami honestly didn't feel repulsed by it. It wasn't the gesture, then, that was the problem. It was the doer.

Trust, Yami thought, was heavily anchored on the familiarity one has with another person. It explained why an insult from a stranger would cause antagonism, while the same word would come out as a sarcastic remark (at worst, a form of teasing) from a friend. He had always been unable to relax when Anzu was around. He didn't know Anzu well enough to trust that she wasn't going to judge him, and at the same time, he didn't see the pressing need to allow someone else, other than Seto and Bakura, to get to know him.

Deep down, Yami was comfortable with his set-up. His life was stable—it was more comfortable than ever. He was friendly, but he didn't have to risk being betrayed by friends because Seto and Bakura never would. He had a confidant in Seto, and a listener in Bakura, even though Bakura was an annoying prick when he did listen. Why would he want things to change?

As soon as he saw their house, Yami shook his head and cleared his mind from his thoughts. He had a long day ahead of him.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Grandpa's appointment was at 1:30 PM, Yami was reminded this morning. Yami glanced at his watch. It was only 12:30! Grandpa snored beside him; deep in sleep in front of the doctor's closed office. Grandpa had a penchant for being ridiculously early for his appointments. It gave him ample time to relax, Yami was told. Apparently, he thought, looking at the elder fondly. Yami took the book from Grandpa's hands and set it aside. Grandpa wasn't going to be reading that now. It was one of those archaeology books that the man was so interested in. 'It appeals to my adventurous soul, my boy,' Grandpa told him once. And now he sleeps through it, Yami mused.

The entire floor was designated for the doctors' offices, with the hallway being lined with benches on both sides to accommodate walk-in patients. Apart from them and that sleeping fellow on the far end of the floor, the hallway was empty. Figures, everyone would go out for lunch and flock back at 1PM. This left Yami with nothing to entertain him, regretting instantly his decision to listen when Grandpa, unfortunately, told him he didn't have to bring anything.

This was going to be a boring wait, Yami thought.

Yami zipped up his sweater and closed his eyes, feeling the drowsiness settle in. He must have dozed off for several minutes already, when there was a tap on his shoulder and he jumped at the contact. Seto grinned impishly at him, taking the seat beside him. Wait a minute! Seto was supposed to be in school today! Yami suddenly stood up, pointing at his clearly very amused friend.

"What are you doing here? Seto!"

Grandpa stirred in his sleep, but didn't awaken even as Seto chuckled.

"Relax, Yami—"

"Seto, you're not supposed to cut class," he chided.

"I actually have a reason to be here, you know," Seto reassured him. "Greg's hurt. Some students were pushing him around today."

Yami shook his head. If Seto's parents learned about this, Seto would be in trouble. But Seto acted as if that wasn't a major concern.

"Please don't tell me you fought them," he said. The last time Seto did that, he got more than what he bargained for. It had to take Bakura to intervene and save their asses then, and it wasn't really a memory Yami was fond of. To his relief, his best friend shook his head. He's learned his lesson, then!

"I sent them a... message," Seto clarified. "I threatened to have them expelled."

To be fair, Seto knew him well enough to expect an outburst. That's why Seto instinctively cringed as soon as he finished his statement. It took a while for Seto's words to sink in, though, so Yami could only gawk at him. There were so many things that could have gone wrong. Then again, if Greg was hurt, he actually expected Seto to act this way. It was in Seto's nature.

"Yami?"

Yami threw him a fond, but equally exasperated look, which Seto only smiled at. Yami wasn't mad at him or anything like that.

"I leave you for a couple of hours and you get yourself in trouble," he pointed out, watching as Seto shrugged. "What am I going to do with you, Seto Kaiba?"

Seto made a face.

"You remind me of my mom when you say it like that. It's creepy," he said, shuddering at the thought.

Yami laughed before punching Seto's shoulder for the comment. He wasn't going to deny that he welcomed his friend's presence now. It beat waiting in the company of his thoughts. But he did wonder about Greg. It must've been serious if Seto had to bring him here. Unless the clinic was closed again, and Seto had over-fretted as he was wont to do.

"Is Greg going to be okay?"

Seto nodded.

"There were some bruises. He's with the doctor now."

At Yami's silence, Seto continued, "I should check on him later," sounding as if he was asking permission from Yami. He didn't have to, but Yami couldn't deny he felt heartened by the gesture. Seto had made a new friend today – and it was endearing, really. Yami couldn't be anything _but _happy for his friend. Yet at the same time, he felt an unexplainable feeling of sadness at the thought that Seto wasn't going to stay with him until his wait was done, as he had expected. Feeling guilty at that emotion, Yami turned to Seto instead, smiling.

"Okay," he said because in the grand scheme of things, this was hardly significant, wasn't it? "So, what did I miss today?"

This was Seto's cue to discuss his morning—to vent out his frustrations, was more like it—and Yami took that moment to close his eyes and rest his head on his friend's shoulder. It was a common sight between them. Seto paused at the gesture, before relaxing as well, as he continued his story. That was the last thing Yami knew before he promptly fell asleep to Seto's voice.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Seto and Yami, Greg thought, were painfully unaware of the adorable sight they made. He clucked his tongue, observing them quietly from where he stood. Seto was clearly not paying attention to anything, lost in thoughts perhaps. Yami, on the other hand, leaned on the brunet, fast asleep. The pair had a fascinating bond, Greg knew; full of support and experience in dealing with each other, problems or no. Sometimes, when he shared tables with the two, he couldn't help but feel out of place; not that they intended so. But it was there—the shared glances, the inside jokes, even the way they talked to each other were indicative of how close they were. Yet even though Seto was the reserved one, Greg always had the impression that it was Yami who didn't drop his guard that frequently _and _easily. That was not to say that Yami didn't talk to him; of course not. In fact, Yami _was _undeniably friendly. But he moved ever more stiffly than when he was with Seto, and Greg plainly saw that. That was the irony, he supposed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Belated Happy Holidays, everyone! I'm so sorry it took a while for me to update. But thank you for the feedback. I've been dying to work on One Notch again and I feel bad for leaving this hanging. Please do leave a comment after reading. I do appreciate some responses. If you hate something, or something felt rushed, please do tell. Thanks!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**Awkward **

Seto Kaiba threw a worried glance at the time. It was 7:15 PM, way past dinner and had he not called ahead, great reason for his mother to worry. In his school uniform, Seto certainly stood out as a crowd of adults rushed home from work. Would he meet his father on the street, he wondered idly. Determined his gait could be, Seto's thoughts focused on the appointment he had unwittingly missed that afternoon. A promise was a promise, and he owed Yami that afternoon. As Seto waited for the pedestrian stoplight to turn green, he couldn't help but let his frustration grow. Couldn't he be home any faster?

Before he left with Greg that day, he told Yami that he was still going to drop by, feeling immensely guilty at leaving his best friend in the hospital to endure the wait alone. (Sort of, since Grandpa was still asleep.) But Yami had stubbornly refused to let him drown in his guilt, cajoling him to go with his new, injured friend instead. They were going to meet later anyway, Yami had said. And Seto missed it. He mentally slapped his forehead.

Seto never intended to stay at Greg's house. Even though Greg was his friend, Seto had only planned to accompany him to ensure that he reached his destination safely. At that time, Greg had mistakenly dropped his guard and looked downcast, a sight that stilled Seto. It was rare to see that in the senior, and Seto found that he couldn't just leave him alone. Of course, Greg had smiled afterwards, doing exactly what Yami did prior by telling him to go home, but Seto was stubborn and had insisted to stay. That was fine. He could afford to stay for a couple of minutes, right? Seto didn't expect to fall asleep on the couch, however, only waking up when Greg's father arrived at quarter to seven o'clock, thanking him profusely before sending him on his way.

Greg's father had painstakingly avoided the winces his son couldn't stifle at every step, and had ignored the clear pain in Greg's eyes as Greg realized his parent's actions. Seto had walked away, feeling a sharp tug at his chest at what he witnessed.

But he was late now. And he sighed in relief as he reached his neighbourhood, his house coming to view. Yami's window next door was open and he approached it in silence.

Under the lampshade, Yami rested his head on his arms, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the figure outside his window. Obviously, Yami was reading a book – Dumas again, huh? – before he dozed off, and Seto was loathe to disturb him, fondly thinking of what his best friend was doing before he fell asleep.

Slipping through the space under the window, a skill he mastered over the years, Seto headed straight to where Yami usually kept the blankets, exhibiting a sense of familiarity with Yami's room that wasn't necessarily surprising since hello, they were best friends! He got a thick one, planning to wrap it around his friend but quickly changed hid mind. It would be a pain to wake up with an aching back, a pain Seto would rather spare Yami from.

So, he gently shook his friend instead, all the while whispering, "Yami, wake up."

Yami stirred, eventually opening his eyes to blearily look at the brunet.

"'m sleepy. Let me sleep, Seto," he half-whined, the words barely comprehensible as they were mostly slurred. But Seto had already roused him, a cruel thing to do now despite his good intentions, he knew, and was gesturing for him to stand up. Yami, like most people, however, was a dead weight, his face buried in Seto's neck as he leaned completely on his friend, uncooperative. Sighing, Seto bore the task of literally putting his best friend to bed in silence, even making sure the blankets were warm enough before smiling at his achievement.

"Good night, Yami," he said to the sleeping boy, before he walked towards the desk, scribbled a neatly-written _'I'm sorry, I should've gone to your house this afternoon. Talk tomorrow?' _Seto then turned off the lights and slipped out stealthily, his thoughts of his best friend affectionate in nature even as his own guilt grew. He knew Yami, and it was quite clear that Yami tried to wait for him.

After all, why else would he leave the window open?

-o-o-o-o-o-

Sleep didn't come to Seto that night as it did his friend. Evasive that it was, it left Seto staring at his ceiling as he allowed himself, finally, to recall today's events.

That Greg was gay, Seto had no problem with. As far as he was concerned, sexual orientation was, in principle, neither good nor bad. It was what it was. However, it was the context that always made things more complicated. Coupled with homophobic peers, being gay would be difficult, whether you openly declared it or not. Was it any surprise, then, that Greg was bullied today?

It was terrible to be bullied—even so because of personal affairs. Seto admitted that he couldn't tell if Greg was openly gay, unless he asked, yet he felt at least that the senior didn't flaunt it. In fact, if it weren't for them sitting with him at lunch, Seto probably wouldn't get the impression that he liked men at all. Essentially, this meant that Greg's secrets were found out, and there was hell to pay, apparently, Seto thought drily.

If Seto dreamed of Greg, then did it mean that he was gay, too?

-o-o-o-o-o-

Yami folded the note Seto left on his desk and with great care, slipped it between the pages of his book, the gesture making him want to talk to Seto sooner. He grabbed his bag, then, and left his room. He had woken up earlier to beat Seto's absurdly early morning routine, and planned to go to his neighbour's house as soon as he was finished cooking breakfast for Grandpa and Yugi.

"Someone looks chirpy today," Grandpa commented by the stairs, observing him carefully, and he grinned. It was a good morning. He wasn't going to deny that.

"How was your sleep, Grandpa?" He asked. At that moment, a smaller figure bumped into him and he turned around, laughing as a half-asleep Yugi mumbled an apology. Yami shook his head and tightly hugged his brother tight, "Yugi, you really shouldn't walk without looking. What if you fell down the stairs?"

Yugi wasn't listening, falling asleep in Yami's arms instead. Yami shook him gently, receiving a groan in response. Yugi opened his eyes and unconvincingly glared at him, "Comfy!"

"You have class, sleepyhead," Yami reminded, dragging a slumbering log of a brother to the bathroom as he did so. He heard Grandpa's chuckle before he left them alone, perhaps to cook breakfast for them, instead. Yami sighed, watching Yugi, who failed at removing his t-shirt, his hair getting stuck. "Well, this is productive."

"Yami?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I skip school today?" Blearily-looking eyes looked up hopefully before its owner hastily added, "I promise I'll catch up."

Wasn't that every guardian's concern after all? Yugi must have thought so, yet the request made Yami frown despite himself. It was an unusual one. Yugi loved going to school, even when he was sick. In fact, he blatantly refused to miss any of the school days for the world. Yami regarded his brother suspiciously until Yugi shifted uneasily on his feet, before kneeling so that he could level his gaze to his younger brother's.

" What's going on, Yugi?"

"Nothing, _onii-chan_," Yugi answered. It was not so convincing.

"Yugi, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. And you're not going to skip school unless you give me a valid reason," Yami warned.

Suddenly, Yugi pulled back, his eyes revealing hurts that Yami noticed only now. Yugi eyed him, his sense of betrayal clear and loud from just his gaze alone. Surprised, Yami tried to approach him but his brother wouldn't have it.

"This is what's wrong!"

What?

Yami's thoughts raced as his confusion grew. Nevertheless, he had a feeling he knew where this was headed exactly. If he was right, he would have every reason to dread this conversation. It had taken a while for _him _to grow out of this phase, and it wasn't an ordeal he wanted to witness or deal with again. Yet he also couldn't suppress the hurt he felt at the anger in Yugi's voice, one that seemed to be directed at him. Yugi rarely had tantrums, even when he was a toddler, and Yami admitted it now left him with limited know-how to approach his brother.

"I'm sorry, Yugi," _For whatever it is, _Yami tried.

If possible, Yugi only grew more annoyed.

"I'm not angry at you," the younger Mutou clarified, albeit in a softer voice now, as he approached his older brother. Their eyes met and with quiet nudging from Yami, continued, "I hate our set-up. I hate that you're always here for me while I can't do anything to help."

"Yugi—"

"And where's our mom, _onii-chan_? Where is she when we need her? It's not fair. You shouldn't be worrying about me. You should be playing with Seto, and having high school problems. But you can't! It's not fair, Yami. Why should we always have to be alone?" Yugi's voice broke as his rant ended. Feeling the weight of his brother's shock, he looked away from Yami's prying eyes.

Meanwhile, during his rant, Yami had frozen. His chest clenched painfully and his thoughts were paralyzed. It was as if Yugi's words were a physical blow. It sure felt like being struck. He still reeled from it and felt dangerously close to tearing up at the sound of Yugi's barely repressed sobs. But he bit down on that urge. They had had a difficult life, sure, and Yami wished his brother wasn't exposed to it. That was a long time ago, though, and he had learned not to be affected by it anymore. So he wasn't going to cry, not over this. Sighing to himself, Yami wordlessly wrapped his brother in his arms, whispering words of comfort.

"Why don't you want to go to school today, Yugi?" Yami asked when the sobs subsided. Yugi flushed in embarrassment and buried his face in his brother's neck. Warningly, Yami called his brother's name again.

"Everyone pities me, _onii-chan_. My classmates treat me differently. My teachers," Yugi murmured. Seemingly knowing what his brother was going to ask, Yugi added, "It started when my English teacher asked us to tell the class about our families. So I told them about you and Grandpa... and how Seto would drop by and play with me. Then Kai asked me where my mom and dad were and I told them."

"Oh, Yugi.."

Yugi glared at his onii-chan accusingly.

"They want to say that, too. They don't, but I can see it in their eyes. It's horrible. I feel like I'm choking there, onii-chan."

Yami nodded, chastened but equally understanding of Yugi's frustration. His brother's frustration was palpable and he silently blamed himself for not noticing the signs. This was the very reason he avoided divulging much about his family, or anything for that matter. For fear of judgment—for the certainty of it, Yami had clammed up. Because even though their family's brush with poverty was commonplace, people still tended to overly sympathize. There had always been a quiet dignity in a person's effort to survive but every time pitying eyes fell on him, Yami felt that dignity diminish.

Herein though was Yami's dilemma. How would he teach Yugi to get over this now?

Their situation put them in a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't'situation. Yami's way of dealing with it had resulted into being pushed around for his silence, and he refused to let that happen to his brother. But at the same time, talking about it might earn more of this reaction, which he was certain Yugi loathed.

Feeling his youth and inexperience for the first time, Yami found he could only embrace his brother tightly. All he did to deal with it was to bear it quietly until the issue was dropped.

"That shouldn't stop you from going to school, Yugi," he said instead, remembering the source of their discussion. Yami stood up, urging Yugi to do the same. "If you let their reaction stop you, they'll find reason to pity you more. Don't worry. Things will go back to normal eventually. Just wait it out."

"What if it doesn't?"

Yami ruffled Yugi's hair affectionately.

"Of course it will. It does every time. Come now, time for a bath."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Although Yami's good mood dampened a bit due to the morning drama, he didn't forget his plan to surprise Seto altogether. Making sure Grandpa and Yugi were okay, Yami bade them goodbye before walking towards his best friend's house. He was just about to knock when Seto's mother opened the door and ushered him in. Her tired, gentle smile greeted him before she told him that Seto was still in his room. If she was worried, she hid it well. But Yami's been going to Seto's house since he was 10 and he knew that she was concerned every time Seto delayed his own schedule. He should be eating breakfast by now.

At her prodding, Yami climbed the stairs and headed to Seto's room. But when knocked, there was no answer. Puzzled, he tried again and when he didn't hear any movement from within, he reached for the doorknob. It wasn't even locked!

He opened it cautiously, not quite knowing what to expect. But when he entered, he saw his best friend lying face down on the bed, apparently fast asleep. Seto was a light sleeper. He would have heard Yami's knock. The fact that he didn't, had Yami approach him and shake him gently. Seto groaned at the contact before moving away from the source of contact. He really was sleeping then. Was Seto so tired last night?

Because his best friend was in his uniform, though, Yami guessed Seto only went back to sleep. He would wake soon. Taking a look around the room, Yami grimaced at the mess. Well, at least he had something to do.

Ten minutes later, Yami grabbed one of the books on Seto's study table. Sitting near the table, his eyes fell on the sleeping figure of his friend. With unnecessary scrutiny, he watched Seto breathe through his slightly opened mouth, his abdomen rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. Seto's features were sharper than all the boys Yami met before. His face was more angular. His gaze was always narrowed. Seto intimidated people by his looks alone.

But in sleep, Seto was virtually harmless. _Vulnerable. _His face was relaxed and he wasn't grimacing either. Seto buried his hands under his pillow and like most youth, kicked off the blanket and rumpled his sheets. Another pillow was lying inconspicuously on the floor, apparently it was kicked off as well. His shirt had gone up a bit, revealing a smooth lower back and his hair was a bird's nest. Despite all of this, Yami realized that when Seto abandoned his attempts to look scary, he looked very much the handsome teenager the girls in school fussed about.

Surprised by this revelation, Yami reddened and looked away, for once feeling awkward for being in the room with his sleeping friend. What possessed him to watch the other closely anyway?

Yami shook his head, then, and returned to the book he was supposed to read. Yami's efforts were interrupted, however, by a sound from the bed. Warily, he glanced back before he heard it again. Fearing Seto was in the midst of a nightmare, Yami approached the sleeping figure and shook Seto again.

"Seto," he called out. "Seto, wake up."

No response. Yami shook him harder.

"Seto!"

Then he heard it. A sharp exhalation before his name seemed to have been punched out from Seto's lips.

Without warning, Seto stood, roused from sleep. His eyes were wide, startled. Yami was just as surprised and in his haste, took a step back only to slip and fall on the floor. The loud 'thud' caught Seto's attention and instantly, his friend was looking at him. Yami saw Seto redden before mumbling an 'Excuse me'. Yami watched helplessly as Seto ran to the bathroom, the sound of the door being locked resounded in the air.

Yami gaped at the door.

What just happened?

**TBC **


End file.
